


You Can Leave Your Hat On

by fits_in_frames



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-09-25
Updated: 2007-09-25
Packaged: 2018-01-21 01:34:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1532825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fits_in_frames/pseuds/fits_in_frames
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jensen stands with each foot on a different stair, looking up with a slightly sour expression, but still has the same crystalline fire in his eyes that's been there since lunch.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Can Leave Your Hat On

**Author's Note:**

> _baby take off your coat, real slow_  
>  _baby take off your shoes, here i'll take your shoes_  
>  _baby take off your dress, yes yes yes_  
>  _but you can leave your hat on_  
>  _you can leave your hat on_  
>  _you can leave your hat on_  
>  {randy newman // you can leave your hat on}  
> 
> 
> Written for [](http://karmicunderpath.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://karmicunderpath.livejournal.com/)**karmicunderpath**.

Jensen's been giving Jared _that look_ all day, and by the time someone calls it a night, he's on the verge of begging Jensen to stop, or fuck him, or both. They go back to their trailers, to get changed, and just as Jared's shouldering his coat on, there's a polite knock at the door. He answers it. Jensen stands with each foot on a different stair, looking up with a slightly sour expression, but still has the same crystalline fire in his eyes that's been there since lunch. Jensen gently pushes his way in, kicks the door closed, and shoves Jared up against it, pressing his hot, open mouth to Jared's in a sloppy, lazy kiss.

They claw at each other's coats, shedding them onto the floor below them, and rip at the buttons on each other's shirts, letting them fall open haphazardly. Jensen grabs a handful of fabric in the middle of Jared's undershirt and pulls until it rips, as if he doesn't want to take his mouth off Jared, even to get him naked. He gropes around for Jared's belt buckle, undoes it and the button on Jared's jeans without opening his eyes, curls his fingers under his waistband and pulls them down. Jared lets them fall to his ankles, wraps one hand around Jensen's neck, snakes the other arm under Jensen's shirt, skimming over bare skin and resting his fingertips near his spine, his palm on warm flesh. One of Jensen's hands goes into his hair, massages his scalp under his winter hat, letting a little cool air in and making him shiver.

"I'm that good, huh?" Jensen breathes into his mouth, grinning coyly.

"Fuck me," Jared huffs against Jensen's cheekbone.

"Okay," Jensen grunts, and slides his hand under the waistband of Jared's boxers, pushing them to the floor. "Up around me," he whispers, hot and wet, into Jared's ear.

So Jared kicks off his shoes and steps out of his discarded jeans and underwear, and pushes himself against the door, wraps his legs around Jensen's waist. Jensen's hand slides along the underside of his thigh, and he presses his ankles into Jensen's back. He curls in on himself as Jensen shoves his own jeans to mid-thigh, spits in his hand, and fucks it over his already-hard cock. Jensen rests one elbow on Jared's shoulder, pushes his fingers further up under Jared's hat, threatening to take it off completely, presses the other hand to Jared's side, and then he's inside Jared, hot and sharp and wet and slow. Jared bites his lip and leans forward, pressing his wool-covered forehead into Jensen's, and Jensen pants as he thrusts, short, hot, wet, breathy not-words leaking out of him like the little trickles of sweat Jared can feel meandering down his cheeks. Jensen lets his hand drift out from under Jared's thigh, lets his fingers dance along the strip of skin just below his belly, lets his still-damp palm wrap around Jared's cock. He pulls Jensen into him, clamping his thighs around Jensen's sides, digging his nails into Jensen's back, Jensen's neck.

Jared comes first, after just a few strokes, and it goes all over Jensen's belly and the open edges of his shirt. Jensen comes a minute later, barely pulling out in time, and Jared's too post-coital to care about any questionable stains that will be on his trailer door tomorrow morning. He lets his legs drop into the pile of clothes beneath him, and untangles himself from Jensen's arms, letting Jensen kiss him one last time, all airy and open-mouthed and not really a kiss at all, before Jensen steps away from the door and pulls up his pants.

Jared catches a reflection of himself in the window to his left, behind Jensen. His hair is almost literally holding up his hat on one side, and his cheeks are dark, and he's got shreds of white shirt hanging from his still-intact collar. He scrubs his hand over his face, and both are damp with perspiration.

"Well," Jensen says, pulling his coat on, looking Jared up and down, grinning and clearly enjoying the view of his practically-naked costar, "at least you don't have to put your hat back on."


End file.
